


Pencilled in at Two

by Anonymous



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: M/M, Office Supplies, Secret Marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:40:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22557283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: It is, in a sense, a marriage of convenience. At the very least, it is a wedding of convenience.
Relationships: Rufus Drumknott/Havelock Vetinari
Comments: 9
Kudos: 53
Collections: Anonymous





	Pencilled in at Two

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DictionaryWrites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DictionaryWrites/gifts).



> Because whenever you post about work things I feel the mighty urge to do something to improve your day.

Rufus Drumknott had thought everything out, in very practical terms. He'd written down pros, cons, logistics...

He had kept these notes in a soft folio of brown leather, with his initials stamped on the front in unobtrusive, neat letters. The folio had been a gift, as had the pen-- it wrote in an ostentatious blue ink which was just a shade too vivid to be appropriate for work-related matters, and when he had pointed this out to Vetinari, his lordship had favored him with a smile which began with a warmth in the eyes and barely reached his lips, and the suggestion that perhaps-- just perhaps-- there was more to life than work-related matters. Drumknott had made a point of feeling his forehead then, to some blend of amusement and consternation.

Both pen and folio had been gifted to him on an appropriate occasion-- the anniversary of his birth-- not frivolously given. There had been paperclips which had appeared on his desk unrelated to any requisition form or special occasion, once, a dizzyingly romantic gesture, but on the whole Drumknott preferred that everything, displays of love included, be properly scheduled and appropriately scaled.

For him, there would be no spontaneous proposals, no wild feeling. He was subject to emotion as any man, but that didn't mean he had to be ruled by them. The office of the Patrician was above that-- Lord Vetinari, of course, but Drumknott also, who was of that office, an extension of it. He liked it that way, to imagine himself as merely an extension of the Patrician's will. To be as another limb to him, or in his wildest and most passionate inner thoughts, to be as much a part of the Patrician's office as his desk. To be as useful and as immovable as that desk! To be as reliable, as unobtrusive and as sturdy and as important to his Lordship!(1)

Spontaneity was out. Foolishness, out. A proposal at all, out. But it was true that for quite some time, he had been living with Vetinari. They slept in the same bed, when Vetinari slept (2), and they took their meals together, when Vetinari ate. (3) It would not alter the daily rhythm of their lives any, if they were to take that step. Already, they were to be consulted ahead of any family, in the case of any tragedy. Already, they would be in charge of settling each other's estates. The legal documentation wouldn't have to change. Already, Drumknott could sometimes be convinced to call Lord Vetinari 'Havelock' in private, outside of working hours, and could even survive hearing his own given name fall from Vetinari's lips.

When he thought about it all logically, there was very little he could put down in the 'cons' column.

Of course, there was every chance that Vetinari would prefer not to. But that would not change things, and Drumknott would not be so silly as to view it as rejection. For the time being, it would remain penciled in as a possibility.

The trip to Uberwald is ideal. No one back in Ankh-Morpork needs to know the ceremony ever happened, and if they marry early enough, then they have enough time in the schedule to spend an afternoon and evening honeymooning, before it's business as usual. There's always a little extra time factored into the schedule when traveling, to allow Drumknott to move things around should delays or disaster strike, that they should still get through everything essential. This particular trip is first and foremost a political one, but socializing is factored in. They will be staying with Lady Margolotta, which is convenient on both the political and the social fronts. About accommodations in general, Drumknott had no particular opinions, but convenience, expedience, those were things he had to be in favor of, even if he felt somewhat out of place in Lady Margolotta's castle. The guest rooms there were far less austere than the comforts of home, so to speak.

He'd arranged it with her, of course, at the start of their stay. He'd managed to get past his natural reluctance to draw her attention and speak to her person-to-person-- let alone ask her for a personal favor-- but if he framed it for himself as a favor to Vetinari, then it was different. He could ask a favor of Lady Margolotta on Vetinari's behalf. Arranging it with Vetinari ought to have been the more heart-pounding prospect, by conventional wisdom, and yet when it came to that part, Drumknott was utterly calm.

On the morning of, he brought out the day's schedule to go over, running down the items.

"Apologies, Drumknott, but I'm not sure I heard," Vetinari murmured, holding up a hand. "Did you say there was a wedding penciled in for this afternoon?"

"Tentatively, Sir," Drumknott said, his voice the rustle of a heavy velvet curtain.

"I was unaware there was to be a wedding. I imagine that if it is penciled in-- tentatively-- to my schedule, I know one of the parties."

"Intimately." He nodded, and felt a familiar yet always-curious swooping of the heart, at the lift of Vetinari's eyebrow and the near-quirk of his lips.

"Oh?"

"Should you desire it. You and I might... make things official."

"Rufus..."

"Please, Sir," Drumknott blushed. "We _are_ going over the schedule."

"You are proposing to me, I'm to call you Mister Drumknott?"

"The 'mister' is unnecessary..."

Vetinari rose from his chair, taking Drumknott's hand and brushing a kiss across his knuckles, softer than a secret whispered. The spark in his eyes was suggestive of something, though even to Drumknott it was a puzzle. Certainly the expected things were all there, but there was more to it. An unfathomable depth that could most closely be described as loving, but in some mysterious and personal way that did not line up with anything or anyone else.

"Might I, from... shall we say, two-fifteen? And until forevermore, refer to you as Mister Vetinari?" He asked.

"We are penciled in for two, Sir, fifteen minutes seems an excessive length of time for two signatures and a stamping. I have timed other ceremonies but find most officiants to be too leisurely in their approach. Still, if we are both efficient in our vows, I daresay you may begin calling me 'Mister Vetinari' no later than ten past. Provided, of course, that we are in private..."

"Of course," Vetinari agreed, and ran a fingertip along Drumknott's tie. He would not insult him by pretending it needed straightening as an excuse to touch. Indeed, the tie was so neat that any playful faux-straightening could only serve to un-straighten, but a feather-light touch did no harm. "And will the day's schedule allow for much privacy?"

"We have the remainder of the afternoon to honeymoon in, Sir--"

"Oh, Drumknott, come-- 'Sir' hardly sounds matrimonial, does it?"

"That is a matter of opinion, Sir." Drumknott turned and began neatening their temporary desk. He spent just enough time fussing over the paperwork there, to lend a little something to it when he glanced back over his shoulder, with his own look of nigh-unreadable care and interest. It was a look which spoke of slow-burning devotion more than passion.

"Very well, Mister Drumknott. The whole of the afternoon?"

"Yes. Though I have preparations for tomorrow's diplomatic talks with Uberwald and Lancre penciled in for the evening. Ah, tentatively,"

"Mm. Do be a good man and shift those to the morning, Drumknott. I fully expect the afternoon's scheduled events to carry over into evening. And Drumknott?"

"Yes, Sir?"

"I am on rather short notice for arranging a wedding present, but I do believe there are some very fine envelopes available in Uberwald, if one knows the right stationery shop. If that would suffice?"

"I have taken the liberty of arranging it already. I thought this morning's business would keep you," Drumknott said, with the slightest incline of the head, and an even slighter smile. It took a very keen eye to detect a smile like Rufus Drumknott's-- but then, few eyes were keener than the Patrician's. And such, he thought, was proper.

Vetinari favored him with a kiss, light and brief, and so warm as to be nearly unbearable. Drumknott never knew how to bear Vetinari's tenderness, nor anyone's. But he had come to accept his position on the matter, which was to say, he wished to spend the rest of his life not knowing how to bear Vetinari's tenderness.

The morning was spent on talks of technological exchange, and then Vetinari and Lady Margolotta had their luncheon. Drumknott remained outside the dining hall, but from there he could hear the rise and fall of the conversation, the natural lulls, her ladyship's laughter-- and, once, Vetinari's, at its loudest and fullest. It was a pleasure just to overhear as much. Not to eavesdrop-- he did not eavesdrop for pleasure, it was a skill he honed knowing that if Vetinari were called to be in a meeting with someone who desired his absence, he might still listen in from the other room. But that was state matters, as he was a tool of the state. This was simply a lunch between friends, and he was content to eat his own lunch quietly, to decline the invitation to join in and to let something of their happy reunion wash over him from a distance. There was a pleasure in this. There was a sweetness. He could imagine fewer finer ways of spending his own lunch than to be near to Vetinari and to be aware of the distance between them, and to know that Vetinari was eating well and enjoying himself, and allowing himself to enjoy something. There would always be duty and there would always be sacrifice. This was natural to the both of them. It was a pleasure to know that there would also be other things, kind things. Little jewels to look to in an unkind world.

There were no rings to exchange, come two. Vetinari had brought from his luggage an unobtrusive tie pin, Drumknott had taken the liberty of buying an equally unobtrusive set of cufflinks, during the scant free time he had had in Uberwald-- a nice reminder of the place, and also, he found jewelers in Uberwald, much like clothiers in Uberwald, haberdashers in Uberwald, and indeed every other profession in Uberwald, favored black. For all his talk of efficiency, it seemed to take him rather a longer time than it could have, to first undo Vetinari's usual plain black cufflinks, and then to slide these new ones into place. To the untrained eye there was little difference if any, but then... this was, again, Vetinari's eye they were talking about.

He rarely allowed himself the leisure of time, when dressing Vetinari. He was businesslike in little touches like the straightening of a tie, the affixing of cufflinks. He had perfected the art of doing up buttons faster than any valet or handmaid in Ankh-Morpork. This was his wedding, this was the only time he would wed-- oh, and he knew, if he voiced the thought, Vetinari would argue. He would huff and he would say there would be a life after him. And perhaps there would be. Perhaps there would be another man. His natural feeling was to say there couldn't be, but of course it was possible. Certain parameters would need meeting, but it was possible. He wouldn't marry, though. It simply wouldn't be necessary to whatever happiness he might find... and he doesn't think it would be possible in the same way. He liked the privacy of marrying here, far from the city, far from scrutiny. He liked knowing their marriage could be secret. It was no one else's business. All the rest of them may belong to Ankh-Morpork and her people, but not this. Not this one thing. And so he allowed himself to linger, in the changing of the cufflinks, and to examine the elegance of Vetinari's-- Havelock's-- hands. The tendons and the long fingers so elegantly carved, the skin so pale, his veins like a winding blue river cutting through a stark white landscape, towards a distant row of four hills. The callus here from holding a pen, there from gripping a cane, and there, from the handle of a knife... And his wrists, even more delicate and alluring. He allowed himself to let the pad of one finger slide along the inside of a wrist, over the pulse point.

In response, Vetinari hooked a knuckle underneath his chin, to tilt him up to be kissed. A bit premature, given they had not been told they ought to and it was in the program, but...

Well. He could allow that, too.

Public vows were brief, and then they were slipping into a little side room, which might have been a butler's pantry.

"Mister Vetinari," Vetinari said, in a low, warm rumble that Drumknott did not so much hear as feel, being as he found himself suddenly pressed to Vetinari's chest, held in the iron circle of his arms.

"Sir..."

"Rufus, please, we did discuss the un-matrimonial nature of 'Sir', did we not?"

"We did not come to a satisfactory agreement. But I am prepared to bow to your will..." Rufus smiled.

"And yet, were I to bow you to my will, I fear you would make the argument that, thus bent, you would be in the right calling me 'Sir', matrimonially as well as otherwise... You do have me in a tight corner," (4) Vetinari mused.

Drumknott smiled. It was not his secretarial smile. It was not not his secretarial smile.

"Rufus Drumknott Vetinari-- Drumknott-Vetinari? Ought we to hyphenate in private?" Vetinari continued, only to pause.

"Surely it should be Vetinari-Drumknott. I can hardly precede you," Drumknott said.

"Ah, but Drumknott-Vetinari would be in alphabetical order. And the sound of it is pleasing to the ear. Thirdly, I like it when you precede me, as I find the view agreeable. Moreover, of the two of us, only I am Patrician, and my word is law. Drumknott-Vetinari it is," He nodded.

"Drumknott-Vetinari it is,"

"Rufus Drumknott-Vetinari, before I go completely off-course... and without arguing with me! It is not a whole and unvarnished truth, to say only I am Patrician. I would be a different Patrician if I did not have you at my side. You anticipate me, you press me, you improve me. I have oft been asked who watches the man who watches the watchmen, and while there are those around me who I would trust to question me, and to help pull me in line were I erring, you are the one man who knows me best, who might see my worst. Who will temper me before I can do harm, rather than come to me when the damage is done. You are... the most important man in Ankh-Morpork, for only you hold the Patrician in your hand. You have my heart. I like to think it is not meaningless. But I extend you something of greater value than my love-- I extend to you, at all times, my trust. For you are... _unmoving_. You are so upright, my dear Rufus, as I strive to be. It is your natural state. You do me an honor, when you serve the office of the Patrician. You do me an honor today, when you bend yourself to me not as clerk, but as husband and helpmeet. You look at me sometimes with the stars in your eyes... you think better of me than I'm sure I merit," Vetinari said, his voice slow and even. "You remind me, always, to merit as many of those stars as any man could. I love you, and I honor you. I bow to you,"

"Havelock," Drumknott whispered, pressed himself so close to Vetinari tht they couldn't be closer. "Havelock Drumknott-Vetinari, if that's what you will... I do love you. I lack the words. But I like to think that I have made myself clear," (5)

"It would be remiss of me not to notice, at this point..."

"I like to think that I have made myself clear. If you were not Patrician, I would still find no higher calling than to serve as your clerk. If you were a man who needed no clerk, on your own merits alone, I would still wish to be yours. Nothing has made me happier, and nothing could make me happier, than a life lived by your side. I hope this sentiment proves sufficient?"

Vetinari chuckled, drawing him into a proper kiss.

There might be sightseeing, later, or any number of things that they _could_ do on a honeymoon in Uberwald. A butler's pantry was as fine a first stop as any.

\------------------------------------------------------------

(1) He had admitted as much, once, while in the grips of a fever, and though Vetinari never brought it up again, it still pained him to know he had voiced such a flight of romantic fancy.

(2) Though his reputation remained as ever it was, Vetinari often slept a little longer when Drumknott was in his bed. He was a stoic, but at a stern and silent urging from his clerk, he could be moved.

(3) See (2).

(4) Being as they were in a butler's pantry, it was all tight corners.

(5) And he had, though no one but Vetinari himself could have untangled his meaning at the time.


End file.
